


The one with the fire chick and the fish.

by FerrisWheelHead



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Jail, M/M, Underage Drinking, teacher
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-10-03 01:14:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17274314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FerrisWheelHead/pseuds/FerrisWheelHead
Summary: "The slut and the falcon" Teen Wolf style.





	The one with the fire chick and the fish.

**Wesley-**

The chill night air was actually kinda terrifying when paired with the extremely intimidating sheriff station behind it. Of course i’ve been here before, mostly during daylight though. And most certainly never at four in the morning. Actually I think if there was an award granted for most visits to the sheriff's station I would have won that award twice by now. Am I a rule breaker? I like to believe so, I sometimes like to participate in rebellion. Such as my doctor requires that I wear my glasses all the time, yet sometimes I walk around the house with them off. Maybe that’s why my sight is getting worse. I think I might stop doing that now. No, the reason i’m at the sheriff's station at four in the morning isn’t anything to do with my eyesight. This had to do with my kid sister and her knack for getting herself arrested.  
I’m unsure what she’s done this time all I know is that I was dragged out of my house by a phone call asking me to come pick up a Ms.Ricki Pozharskoye from the police station. Should I leave her there? Probably. Do I have the heart to do that? Sadly No. The door creaks open like in one of those creepy late night movies Ricki is always making me watch. I think she gets genuine amusement from seeing me terrified to make the trek from my living room to my bedroom. There's only one person in the room, an officer typing at the keys of a computer at the reception desk. He is definitely new, he can’t be much older than me, and oh. Oh no. He's cute. Like really… oh no like really cute. “Oh no” I say without realizing it. Bright green eyes snap up at the sound, he raises an eyebrow questioningly. Oh no why is he so cute, I can't talk to cute boys. Guys I mean, I shouldn't call him a boy I mean i'm an adult he's an adult. And now i've been staring like an idiot. This can't get worse. I step forward and of course I trip over my on feet and bash my head against the desk on the way down. Yes it could get worse apparently. Cute guy is suddenly around the desk and crouched over me. “You’re new.” I mutter awkwardly.  
“You come here often?” He replies with a soft smile paired with a mildly concerned look.  
Is he flirting? Or asking a legitimate question? See this is why I shouldn't talk to attractive people. I decide flirting cause that's what i'm hoping for.  
“Uh, I don't know, do you uh come here often?” I answer.  
“I work here?” Definitely not flirting then. Oh god this just keeps getting worse.  
I decide to avoid the awkwardness by just getting straight to the point.  
“I'm here to pick up my sister, you have her in custody,” I breathed in to steady my nerves. “Her name is Ricki, uh, Parharskoye.”  
“Are you her legal guardian?” He asks as he rounds the desk back to the computer.  
“Oh um no but-”  
“Then we can't discharge her into your custody, Sir.” he interupts.  
“You need to talk to the sheriff he knows me”  
“It doesn't matter if you know the sheriff that doesn't change the rules.”  
And suddenly I am fed up with this situation. The past hour has just been horrible. First, i'm dragged out of my warm safe bed at four in the morning, Secondly the whole place is spooky and now with the hot guy judging me and not letting me get my damn sister.  
“This is just a glorified time out, you don't have any evidence to back up whatever it is your charging her with, and it is most likely that she was only arrested for being a nuisance. Now could you please go back to sheriff Stilinski’s office and tell him that Wesley is here, Deputy-” I squint at his name tag. “Parrish.” I punctuate my statement with a few aggressive taps to the desk.  
He sighs but does as I ask. And only a few minutes later he comes back with a very tired looking sheriff. I do try not to look too pleased with myself. He leads me and the deputy down the hall leading to the cells, when we pass through the door I ask. “So what’d she do this time?” Doing my best to not look at where she must be.  
“Hey buddy” she chimes from the cell behind me.  
“Petty theft.” Stilinski answers.  
“See,” I say looking over to Parrish “They won't charge her cause it costs more than what she took.”  
“She robbed my son.” The sheriff says.  
“Dude, seriously?!” I yell.  
“I plead the fifth.” she replies.

 

**Ricki-**

  
Okay, I can tell my brother is mad as I follow him out of the police station and into his car.  
“Ricki! Seriously?!” he yells as soon as the doors are shut and the car is on.  
“LISten okay? I SWEAR TO GOD I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW HE HAD A SON.” I launch into an explanation.  
“No, Ricki. Why at 4 in the morning? Why are you still pickpocketing people? Why?” he asks. “You're lucky they never have any proof. You're lucky because he can only get you for being out past curfew. You're lucky he lets me take you home instead of our parents. And you're lucky he's a nice guy. With how many times youve been in there he could put you in juvie. You get that, right?” I roll my eyes, looking out the window as we drive home.  
“You're just mad because you choked on your tongue trying to talk to the new guy.” I turn to look at him. His expression is a mixture of anger and embarrassment.  
“You- you heard that?” he asks, mortified.  
I smirk, “Everyone in the station heard. But I like that you were making an effort.” I grin. We pull up in front of his house.  
“You sleep here tonight. Don't wake me up. Don't leave again until at least the sun comes up.” he says quickly. I follow him into his tiny house. His dark hair is messy, and so is his living room as he switches the light on. I flop down on the couch, slipping my shoes off and yanking a blanket up over myself. He grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and tosses it to me. I grab it with grace.  
“Hey man, i’m going to the Beacon Hills fair tomorrow. You wanna come?” I shout out to him. He pauses as he starts walking to his bedroom.  
“Sure.” he says, before continuing on his walk.  
The lights are turned off and I lay there in the dark, thinking back to what lead up to this moment in the past few hours.

 

Dancing is something i’ve always been good at. Another thing i've always been good at is pickpocketing. I have sticky fingers. Minor character flaw. It is what it is. My prefered hunting ground is the richest club in town. It's where all the wealthy young people around come to let go and have a good time. It's easier to pickpocket here than anywhere else because I don't really need to try and read people. I refuse to steal from the people that can't afford it. My therapist calls it a robin hood complex. I call it good and righteous fun.  
So dancing and stealing, my drug of choice.  
Which is how I guess I ended up here tonight.  
The lights pulsating over the room are pink and blue, the music is blaring loudly, and people, young people, are drunkenly dancing all across the floor. I feel my body synchronize with the beat and start dancing my way onto the floor. My hands slipping into peoples jacket pockets as I bump into them, and they think nothing of it. I find myself wedged between a couple, a man and a woman, laughing and grinding to the beat. I feel the man grip at my sides roughly and I turn to face his, grabbing the ends of his jacket and pulling him closer to me. My hands wander from his sides (jacket pockets), to his hips (Front pockets), and then to his ass (back pockets). He's loving it, not even realizing I took his wallet and phone. I turn around from him and wink at the girl with him, who smiles back with an intoxicated grin and I slip away from both of them, sliding his things into my side purse. I repeat the dance a few more times before slipping over to the bar.  
An old friend of mine is working as the bartender tonight and he slides me my usual. A vodka tonic. I drink it quickly and smile at him, getting a slight buzz and actively not gagging. He winks at me and slides me another before making himself scarce. I'm confused for a minute before I feel a gentle tap on my shoulder. I turn around and see a brunet boy sitting next to me. I raise my eyebrows, drinking my drink. When I say boy, I mean boy. He's definitely not old enough to be in here.  
“You don't look old enough to be in here.” I say, smirking at him. His expression mirrors mine.  
“I was going to say the same thing about you.” his voice creeps across the bar towards me. I can't help but giggle, sipping at my drink some more.  
“You got me there. Would you like a drink?” I smile flirtatiously at him. His face goes slightly pink and he smiles back, nodding. I turn to Matty, waving him down.  
“Matty could you get my friend here a sex on the beach?” I grin at him. Matty smiles back, nodding and mixing the drink for him. I see the alcoholic juice fall into the cup and slide towards the boy next to me. He takes it cautiously, raising an eyebrow as he takes a sip. I can tell he was expecting it to burn, but that moment never came. He just looks a me with a shocked yet pleased expression. That's gonna go down nice and easily.  
“So where are your friends?” I ask. I see a slight grimace cross his face as he points to a general direction.  
“I'm the third wheel this time. I came here with a couple.” he grumbles, a little butthurt. He basically downs his drink after that statement. I wave down Matty, and he makes another one for him. “Bad choice, I know. They suggested we come here to raise morale.” I sip at my drink, watching him intently. His hair is messy, and his eyes are decorated with dark circles. “What's your name, by the way?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow. I blush slightly at the inquiry. I never really come here to socialize. He drinks more of his fruity cocktail as I stammer awkwardly over my words, knowing better than to say the real thing.  
“Dot. Yours?”  
“Stiles. Are you from around here?” he asks. I can see the alcohol in his cheeks, as they were at a consistent state of pink by this point.  
“Yeah. You wouldn't know me from school though. I've been home-schooled for basically every year other than kindergarten.” he nods, looking at me slightly dazed. I finish my drink quickly, losing my previous buzz. Matty swoops in to save the day before disappearing again.  
“You seem to know him pretty well. You come here often?” he asks, amused by the cliche that fell from his mouth before he could catch it.  
“Eh. I like coming here. I helped Matty get a job here.” I say honestly, looking at the blonde man at the end of the counter.  
“That's really nice.” Stiles grins, finishing his next cocktail. Another refill is placed in front of him. This is the endgame. After this one I do what I do and get out of here. Which kind of sucks because, you know, I actually kind of like this guy. He's cute, and easy to talk to.  
“So tell me about yourself, Stiles.” I smile at him, leaning on the bar and crossing my legs. His brown eyes widen slightly, obviously not prepared for the inquiry.  
“I prefer to be mysterious.” he giggles, taking another drink.  
“Come on.” I whine childishly, reaching over and tapping his shoulder playfully.  
“Well i'm in high school.” he says, smiling into his drink.  
“Noooooo! I had no idea!” I say sarcastically. He laughs slightly, I can tell by the twinkle in his eyes he appreciates the banter.  
“And! I'm on the lacrosse team.” he says. Of course he is. It seems like every rich kid his age is.  
“Ooooh, you play?” I say, faking an interested smile and take a drink of my vodka.  
“I said I was on the team, I didn't say they let me play.” he says with a pained smile. I can't help but snort into my drink, laughing at the statement. He laughs in response. I make a smooth recovery though, grinning devilishly as form a flirty response.  
“It makes sense, they need to keep the eye candy on the side to avoid you hurting your pretty face.” His cheeks went from being pink to being scarlet in a second and he coughs, finishing his drink to avoid my gaze.  
“Hey I love this song! Wanna come dance with me?” I ask, downing my drink and grabbing his hand, not waiting for a response. I drag him out to the floor with me and start dancing with him, pressing my body into his. He looks at me, very obviously intoxicated. Well, tipsy at least. I pull his arms around me, dancing with him. The lights and beat guiding my steps. I look him in the eyes as he dances with me sloppily, apparently unused to the movements. I grab his sides, checking his coat pockets as I do. Then his hips. He looks down at me with dark brown eyes and I smirk, reaching into his jean pockets without him noticing. We dance for another moment and as the beat picks up. I turn my back to him, pressing my back to his stomach and dancing to the beat as I slip his wallet into my purse. His hands grab my hips, trying to match my tempo.  
I turn around to face him, stopping dancing as the song ends. “Hey i'm gonna go powder my nose.” I say, he nods in his stupor. I can tell mentally he taking in what just happened much slower than usual and I slip away, bumping into people and grabbing their personal belongings as I do, murmuring apologies as I do. I make it to the bar and slide a debit card to matty, paying for my drinks. He gives it back quickly and proceeds to be yelled at by a man next to me. My blood boils and I turn to walk away. As I do I grab his belongings and knock him to the ground.  
“Oh my god i'm so sorry!” I say, faking a drunken tone. He stands up quickly, looking me up and down. I can see him calculating his next move in his eyes and I hold my hands up, apologetically.  
He almost let me alone, but Stiles, a drunken child, steps in front of me quickly.  
“Hey! She didn't mean to!” he starts to say but the guy quickly punches him. He's knocked to the ground and I immediately get pissed. I slip off my heels and pull out my earrings, setting them on the bartop next to me. I put my purse with it. The man laughs for probably a moment before I punch him square in the nose. He stammers backward and I stand defensively over the boy I got drunk and stole from. Guilt and rage wrack through my body at the same time and I grit my teeth. Tonight was supposed to go smoothly. The man throws another punch, but directed at me this time and I duck, letting his hand glide over the top of my head before standing back up and punching him with as much force as I could muster directly into his jaw. I hear a loud snap and he falls to the floor, out cold. I turn around wide eyed and look at stiles, who had the same expression as I. I grab my things and pull his wallet out of my purse and hand it to him, refusing to steal from him in particular. He looks at me confused and then down to his wallet.  
I was out of there before he had the chance to look back up at me with a look of realization.  
I run to the nearest gas station and go directly into their bathroom. I head for a stall and get back into my shoes. Then I go through every wallet I got and grab all of the cash I collected that night. In total it came out to almost $600. I smile as i recount. “Dumb motherfuckers.” I say as I drop all of their wallets in the wastebasket on my way out.  
I make my way to walmart, then to the chinese restaurant next to it.  
“How many tonight?” Terry asks.  
“14. Just in case.” he nods and does as I ask him. I give him the rest of the cash I got and he drives me to the big bridge in town. I nod to him and he helps carry everything I got down under the bridge.  
This is where 13 very good people live. One of my best friends lives down here too. They all light up the second they see me.  
“Hey Ricki!” they call out. Terry puts everything down next to me and waves to everybody and then he leaves, rushing back to work.  
“ALright, I got everyone new shoes and food from Earls favorite restaurant.” Earl, a homeless man i've become close with, smiles down at his feet.  
“You're too good to us Ricki.” he says, voice hoarse with age. I roll my eyes and start handing out food. Then a pair of shoes, each their own size. I gave a few phones I stole that night so they could pawn them.  
“Alright, I need to go before I get arrested again.” I say to the group of people eating in front of me. Most of them just waved goodbye, but I saw Earl stare at me with a knowing and disapproving expression. “Don't look at me like that. Some guy was picking on Matty so I kind of fought him.” he looks at me with eyes that essentially said “For shame.” and I laughed, waving goodbye and running off.  
See? Robin Hood complex. Only my therapist, my brother, and the people I help know I do this. To the rest of the world i'm just the biggest asshole ever.  
Speaking of me being an asshole… I see Stiles talking to some guy in a car and the guilt finds itself in a rock formation in my stomach. Only one thing I can do now. That is to apologize. I rush over to him, stopping a few feet away from him.  
“Hey i'm really sorry about earlier, Stiles.” I say quickly. He looks up at me and I can tell he's a little salty. A bit more than a little.  
“Oh, there she is.” he says.  
“What?” I ask. The drivers door open and I shit you not I almost shat myself. Sheriff Stilinski. Seriously?  
“Dude I gave it back and you went to the sheriff ?” I ask, kinda let down by how lame that is.  
“Dude he's my dad.” he says. All oxygen leaves my body.  
“Fuck.”  
“Ricki.” Sheriff Stilinski says mostly as a greeting, not surprised by this situation.  
“Ricki?” Stiles asks, realizing I lied about my name.

 

“Ricki.” my brother says, snapping me out of my daze. _What a day._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I imagine that Wesley looks like Ezra Miller, and we don't quite know what Ricki looks like yet. We will make an effort to post regularly but as I am not completely a fool I will say that we might not post as often as we want to.


End file.
